This is a repository copy of Your Name shall no longer be Jacob, but refugee: Involuntary

migration and the development of the Jacob narrative.

White Rose Research Online URL for this paper:

http://eprints.whiterose.ac.uk/141262/

Version: Accepted Version

Book Section:
Strine, C. orcid.org/0000-0002-1101-0242 (2018) Your Name shall no longer be Jacob, but
refugee: Involuntary migration and the development of the Jacob narrative. In: Klutz, T.,
Strine, C. and Keady, J., (eds.) Scripture as Social Discourse: Social-Scientific
Perspectives on Early Jewish and Christian Writings. T&T Clark , London , pp. 51-70.
ISBN 9780567676047

© 2018 The Editors. This is an author-produced version of a chapter subsequently

published in Klutz, T., Strine, C. and Keady. J. (eds.) Scripture as Social Discourse:
Social-Scientific Perspectives on Early Jewish and Christian Writings.
[https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/scripture-as-social-discourse-9780567676047] Uploaded
in accordance with the publisher's self-archiving policy.

Reuse
Items deposited in White Rose Research Online are protected by copyright, with all rights reserved unless
indicated otherwise. They may be downloaded and/or printed for private study, or other acts as permitted by
national copyright laws. The publisher or other rights holders may allow further reproduction and re-use of
the full text version. This is indicated by the licence information on the White Rose Research Online record
for the item.

Takedown
If you consider content in White Rose Research Online to be in breach of UK law, please notify us by
emailing eprints@whiterose.ac.uk including the URL of the record and the reason for the withdrawal request.

eprints@whiterose.ac.uk
https://eprints.whiterose.ac.uk/
 !

Your Name Shall No Longer be Jacob, but Refugee: Involuntary Migration

and the Development of the Jacob Narrative

I. INTRODUCTION

Consider this atypical summary of the ancestral narrative in Gen 12Ð36.

The narrative begins with Abraham,1 who migrates to Canaan. On arrival in Canaan,
famine forces Abraham to flee to Egypt (Gen 12:10). Abraham eventually returns to Canaan,
where his son Isaac also faces a famine that forces him to migrate (Gen 26:1). Rather than
leave Canaan, Isaac drifts within its boundaries, residing in various places to survive. IsaacÕs
son Jacob grows up in Canaan, but spends his early adulthood as an asylum seeker avoiding
the aggression of his brother Esau by taking refuge with his family in Mesopotamia. After 20
years, Jacob returns to Canaan to find a transformed, unrecognizable society. The
conciliatory attitude of EsauÑwho seeks to reconcile with Jacob instead of killing himÑ
exemplifies JacobÕs reverse culture shock. Throughout a Leitwort is gēr, Òsojourner,Ó a term
that connotes transitory residence, difference from the host population, and limited legal
protection.

One might summarize the narrative with terms used by the United Nations High
Commissioner for Refugees: Abraham is an environmentally induced externally displaced
person; Isaac is an environmentally induced internally displaced person; and, Jacob is an
asylum seeker who subsequently repatriates by choice. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are all
self-settled involuntary migrants.2

1
For ease, I shall use Abraham throughout, though the first patriarchÕs name is Abram from his
introduction until it is changed by YHWH in Gen 17:5.
2
The matriarchs in Gen 12Ð36 are also involuntary migrants. When they seek respite from the famine
in Canaan, Abraham coaches his wife Sarah to identify as his sister, thus protecting him from any Egyptian who
might consider murdering him to take this beautiful woman as their wife. Abraham and Sarah do the same again
when fleeing famine in Gerar. Like father, like son: when Isaac and Rebekah encounter a famine in Canaan and
migrate to Gerar in order to survive it, they employ the same scheme for the same reasons. In UNHCRÕs terms,
Sarah and Rebekah are environmentally induced involuntary migrants; circumstances beyond their control
compels them to engage in a form of sex work in order to provide for their families. For further details, see C.
A. Strine, ÒSister Save Us: The Matriarchs as Breadwinners and Their Threat to Patriarchy in the Ancestral
Narrative,Ó in Women and Exilic Identity in the Hebrew Bible, eds. M. Halvorson-Taylor and K. Southwood
(Bloomsbury T&T Clark: London, forthcoming 2017).

1
 !

When framed this way, there is little doubt that Gen 12Ð36 invites the commentator to
employ social scientific research on involuntary migration. Though social scientific
approaches to Genesis are not new,3 very little work on the ancestral narrative foregrounds
the issue of migration. Perhaps the first to recognize the prominence of this theme in Genesis
was John Van Seters, though it informs his approach tangentially.4 Recent volumes by David
Frankel and Elizabeth Robertson Kennedy and an article by Guy Darshan, give a larger role
to migration in Genesis,5 but none draws on the sub-discipline of the social sciences often
known as refugee studies in order to deal with this theme.

To some extent, this lacuna arises from the youth of forced migration studies. Some
trace its origin to the 1951 UN convention relating to the status of refugees,6 but a vast
number place its foundation in the early 1980Õs.7 Still in its infancy, the field of involuntary
migration studies continues to grow and define its methods, only recently being capable of
delivering findings that can be used in other disciplines. Bearing these limitations in mind,
the preceding summary of the ancestral narrative indicates that Biblical StudiesÑespecially

3
Inter alia, E. Theodore Mullen, Ethnic Myths and Pentateuch Foundations: A New Approach to the
Formation of the Pentateuch (Atlanta, Ga.: Scholars Press, 1997), John Van Seters, The Pentateuch: A Social-
Science Commentary (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), Mark G. Brett, Genesis: Procreation and the
Politics of Identity (London: Routledge, 2000), and Anselm C. Hagedorn, ÒHuasmann und JŠger (Gen 25,27-
28). Aus den jugendtagen Jakobs und Esaus,Ó in Die ErzvŠter in der biblischen Tradition: Festschrift fŸr
Matthias Kšckert, ed. A. C. Hagedorn and Henrik Pfieffer (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2009). Beyond Genesis,
the best examples are John Ahn, Exile as Forced Migrations: A Sociological, Literary, and Theological
Approach on the Displacement and Resettlement of the Southern Kingdom of Judah (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter,
2011), Jill Middlemas and John J. Ahn, By the Irrigation Canals of Babylon: Approaches to the Study of the
Exile (New York: T & T Clark, 2012), and Katherine E. Southwood, Ethnicity and the Mixed Marriage Crisis in
Ezra 9Ð10 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012). For a broader justification for employing social scientific
research as an interpretative heuristic, see the argument of Philip Esler, ÒSocial-Scientific Models in Biblical
Interpretation,Ó in Ancient Israel: The Old Testament in Its Social Context, ed. Philip Esler (Philadelphia, Pa.:
Fortress, 2006), 3-14.
4
For John Van Seters most extended discussion of the issue, see Prologue to History: The Yahwist as
Historian in Genesis (ZŸrich: Theologischer Verlag ZŸrich, 1992), 209-14.
5
David Frankel, The Land of Canaan and the Destiny of Israel: Theologies of Territory in the Hebrew
Bible (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2011), Elisabeth Robertson Kennedy, Seeking a Homeland: Sojourn
and Ethnic Identity in the Ancestral Narratives of Genesis (Leiden: Brill, 2011), and Guy Darshan, ÒThe Origins
of the Foundation Stories Genre in the Hebrew Bible and Ancient Eastern Mediterranean,Ó Journal of Biblical
Literature 133:4 (2014). Frankel does not draw on the social sciences in a substantial way. Kennedy relies upon
the work of Anthony D. Smith; this is helpful and her book offers important new ideas, but she sees migration
as merely a precursor to a landed, national, static form of identity that fails to really engage with the lived
experience of forced migration of the research on that phenomenon. Darshan does not employ the social
sciences, though his comparative method further underscores the potential for this approach to enhance our
understanding of not only the biblical but also classical material.
6 Richard Black, ÒFifty Years of Refugee Studies: From Theory to Policy,Ó International Migration
Review 35, no. 1 (2001): 57-78; for the UN document see http://www.unhcr.org/pages/49da0e466.html
(accessed 23 Feb 2017).
7
Dawn Chatty, ÒAnthropology and Forced Migration,Ó in The Oxford Handbook of Refugee and
Forced Migration Studies, ed. Elena Fiddian-Qasmiyeh et al. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 74-80.

2
 !

work on the Hebrew BibleÑoffers a prime area for such interdisciplinary work.

Two potential contributions of this approach lie at the core of my work on Genesis.
First, the insights that the study of forced migration provides on the migratory experience
suggest new interpretations of difficult texts in the ancestral narrative. Second, built upon that
exegetical work, one can reconsider questions of textual fractures indicating separate sources
and by examining the attitudes exhibited towards the experience of involuntary migration
exhibited in these textual sources comprising Genesis, then work towards a fresh model for
the diachronic growth of the book.

This article shall focus on the Jacob narrative (Gen 25:19Ð33:20), using it as a case
study to demonstrate both contributions. The Jacob narrative lends itself to this effort
particularly well because it presents a full ÒlifecycleÓ of involuntary migration. In stage one,
Jacob lives as an asylum seeker from EsauÕs threat of violence, receiving refuge in
Haran/Padan-aram. In stage two, though Jacob is welcomed and protected by Laban, he
remains an indentured laborer with limited rights. Typical of subordinated persons, Jacob
does not acquiesce to this situation, but eventually finds a way to subvert his domineering
host, even to benefit financially from the situation. In stage three, Jacob returns ÒhomeÓ to
Canaan. Anxiety consumes Jacob when he considers the hostility he will face from Esau
when he returns; yet, when he arrives in Canaan he is astonished to find that Esau wants to
reconcile with him. ÒHomeÓ is totally different than Jacob remembers or imagines.
Nonetheless, the patriarch proceeds with caution and a lack of trust for Esau, the same
strategies that proved successful during his time as a refugee. In all three stages, Jacob
resembles involuntary migrants from other cultures, whose experiences can, therefore,
enhance our understanding of this narrative.

II. JACOB THE INVOLUNTARY MIGRANT (GEN 25:19Ð29:14A)

The Jacob narrative begins in Gen 25:19 with the Toledot formula and a description of the
struggle between Esau and Jacob during their birth. The continual nature of their conflict with
one another is highlighted by the stew-birthright negotiation story in 25:27-34. The story of
Isaac facing a famine, like Abraham before him, interrupts the developing rivalry; though it
underscores the centrality of involuntary migration in the ancestral narrative, its role must

3
 !

remain a topic for another time.

After the story of IsaacÕs and RebekahÕs time in Gerar, the narrative returns to Esau
and Jacob. The details of Rebekah and JacobÕs ruse to gain the patriarchal blessing for Jacob
instead of Esau are familiar, but it is worthwhile to look at the end of Gen 27 where the
circumstances of JacobÕs departure from Canaan are enumerated. EsauÕs bitterness towards
Jacob produces homicidal intentions, which Rebekah discovers. She counsels Jacob to flee
Canaan and seek safety with Laban in Haran for Òa whileÓÑthis amounts to recommending
that Jacob seek asylum and become a refugee. ÒA refugee,Ó as defined now, Òis someone who
has been forced to flee his or her country because of persecution, war, or violence,Ó8 and it is
likely she or he Òcannot return home or are afraid to do so.Ó9

Staying with the final form of the text for now, Gen 27:46Ð28:5 explains how
Rebekah facilitates JacobÕs departure by expressing her disgust at the idea that he would
marry a Canaanite woman. From the perspective of involuntary migration studies, it is
entirely logical that JacobÕs mother would use her influence and knowledge to gain safe
passage for her son. Caution is necessary to avoid anachronism, but research in various areas
shows that asylum seekers and refugeesÑlike all manner of marginalized peopleÑsee their
claims succeed far more often when a qualified person takes forward their claim.10 Today,
this generally involves legal counsel; in antiquity, influential people played similar roles,
though they did not have a professional qualification per se. Often, these people had a social
status that allowed influence with a powerful person (e.g., NathanÕs influence with David;
RehoboamÕs counsellors in 1 Kgs 12:1-17). It is not at all extraordinary that Jacob relies upon
his mother for this support: ethnographic research indicates that Òthe only person a man can
really trust is the one person who will not stand to gain by his death. This person is neither

8
http://www.unrefugees.org/site/c.lfIQKSOwFqG/b.4950731/k.A894/What_is_a_refugee.htm
(accessed on 23 Feb 2017); cf. Article 1, 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, which says
Òowing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a
particular social group, or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality, and is unable to or, owing
to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country.Ó
9
http://www.unrefugees.org/site/c.lfIQKSOwFqG/b.4950731/k.A894/What_is_a_refugee.htm
(accessed on 23 Feb 2017).
10
See Eleanor Acer, ÒMaking a Difference: A Legacy of Pro Bono Representation,Ó Journal of
Refugee Studies 17, no. 3 (2004): 347-66, and Katia Bianchini, ÒLegal Aid for Asylum Seekers: Progress and
Challenges in Italy,Ó Journal of Refugee Studies 24, no. 2 (2011): 390-410, for discussion and further
references.

4
 !

his wife nor his children; it is his mother.Ó11

Rebekah is a powerful figure by any estimation. Mark Brett notes that this story
Òserves to emphasize her agency,Ó12 and John Anderson remarks that Òthe narrative presents
Rebekah as much more than a simple housewife.Ó13 Indeed, no one knows better than
Rebekah that IsaacÕs life was shaped by the requirement of endogamous marriage and, more
recently, by distrust for the local population (e.g., the men of Gerar in Gen 26). She acts in a
way that is likely to persuade Isaac to allow JacobÕs departure. Rebekah operates like a
political figure or legal advocate, using her knowledge, access, and influence to aid her
Òclient.Ó

The content of RebekahÕs plea to Isaac represents a change in theme and style from
Gen 27:1-45, one of several reasons scholars allocate Gen 27:1-45 to a non-Priestly source
(non-P) and 27:46Ð28:9 to a Priestly source (P). Further attention to those issues will come
later. For now, this fracture should neither obscure that the study of involuntary migration
provides a sensible logic for the topical shift between the two sections nor overshadow the
similarities between RebekahÕs approach here and IsaacÕs pragmatic tactics with the men of
Gerar in Gen 26. Both Isaac and Rebekah exhibit a willingness to bend the truth and to use
deception. It is relevant to note, then, that Barbara Harrell-Bond and Eftihia Voutira quote an
involuntary migrant source remarking that: Ò[t]o be a refugee means to learn to lie.Ó14
Whatever the process by which these texts arrive in their canonical form, the characters and
actions depicted here correspond closely to behaviors observed among involuntary migrants
facing similar challenges in other times and places.

As Jacob sets out for Canaan (28:10), he spends a night in the place that he will name
Bethel. His vision into the divine realm provides an etiology for the sanctuary at Bethel, to be
sure. However, approached from the perspective of involuntary migration, JacobÕs vow forms

11
Eftihia Voutira and Barbara E. Harrell-Bond, ÒIn Search of the Locus of Trust: The Social World of
the Refugee Camp,Ó in Mistrusting Refugees, ed. E.V. Daniel and J. C. Knudsen (Berkley: University of
California Press, 1995), 208.
12
Brett, Genesis: Procreation and the Politics of Identity, 88-89.
13
John E. Anderson, Jacob and the Divine Trickster: A Theology of Deception and YhwhÕs Fidelity to
the Ancestral Promise in Jacob Cycle (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2011), 70.
14
Voutira and Harrell-Bond, ÒIn Search,Ó 216. It should be stressed that necessity, not deficient
morality, typically drives such dishonesty. Deceptive actions often constitute one of very few survival
mechanisms available to people with a legitimate fear for their life.

5
 !

the critical aspect of the experience:

20b
If God remains with me, if he protects me on this journey that I am making, and
21
gives me bread to eat and clothing to wear, and if I return safe to my fatherÕs
22
houseÑYHWH shall be my God. And this stone, which I have set up as a pillar,
shall be the house of God; and of all that you give me, I will make a tithe to you.

This scene, coherent and unified despite much argument to the contrary,15 does far more than
offer a hieros logos; rather, it conveys the hopes and fears of an involuntary migrant fleeing
mortal danger by traveling into an unknown place, without assurance things will be better
there.

III. JACOB THE REFUGEE (GEN 29:14BÐ32:1)16

Upon arrival in Haran, Jacob meets Rachel, who then introduces him to her father, Laban.
Laban welcomes Jacob into his house, where Jacob explains what has prompted his departure
from Canaan to Laban (29:13b), who declares his willingness to protect Jacob by calling the
newcomer Òmy bone and my fleshÓ (29:14a). Recognized as family, Jacob falls under
LabanÕs protection. He is, in an ancient form, granted asylum from his bloodthirsty brother,
Esau.17

The relationship between Laban and Jacob is not one of full equality. After a month
of service ÒLaban said to Jacob, ÔJust because you are a kinsman, should you serve me for
nothing?ÕÓ (Gen 29:15a) Despite inviting Jacob to set the wage, the text leaves LabanÕs
motivation ambiguous. Wenham remarks that Laban keeps Òhis options openÓ and concludes
that the extraordinarily large commitment Jacob is willing to make for Rachel suggests that
he will pay handsomely for her.18 Without disregarding that interpretation, one may add to it
from the perspective of involuntary migration: JacobÕs extended commitment assures him of

15
Erhard Blum, ÒThe Jacob Tradition,Ó in The Book of Genesis: Composition, Reception, and
Interpretation, ed. Craig Evans, A., Joel N. Lohr, and David L. Petersen (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 197-203.
16
This division of the sections follows the BHS arrangement, where 29:14a concludes the preceding
material and 29:14b opens a new movement in the narrative.
17
cf. cities of refuge, e.g., Num 35; Deut 23:16; Josh 20:2, 21:13, 21, 27, 32, 26.
18
Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 16Ð50 (Nashville, Tenn.: Thomas Nelson, 2000), 235.

6
 !

protection for the foreseeable future. From one perspective, seven years constitutes an
extraordinarily long term of service for a bride; from another, it affords Jacob security,
assuring he retains protection against the violent retribution he seeks to avoid.

Moreover, bearing in mind JacobÕs Òrefugee statusÓ illuminates the power dynamics
at play. Asylum seekers in the United Kingdom, as just one example, do not choose where
they live, cannot work legally, and must survive on about £6 a day in vouchers. Life is
complicated by the constant threat of deportation. Even after receiving refugee status, forced
migrants remain at the mercy of the government: they do not live as citizens, but on time
limited and revocable visas. Without uncritically applying modern circumstances to the
ancient context, one may still highlight the fundamental dynamic that does cross cultures: the
one granting protection to the asylum seeker possesses tremendous power over them. So long
as the threat of expulsion exists, so does an asymmetric power relationship.

This model explains LabanÕs duplicitous behavior. When Laban takes advantage of
JacobÕs status as a refugee, Jacob has little recourse. ÒBenevolentÓ Laban, remarks von Rad,
is Òa master of deceit:Ó19 even though Laban agrees that seven years of service from Jacob
will warrant a daughter in marriage (29:19), without warning or regret he gives Jacob the
older, unwanted daughter Leah. ÒLaban said, ÔIt is not the practice in our place to marry off
the younger before the older. Wait until the bridal week of this one is over and we will give
you that one too, provided you serve me another seven yearsÕÓ (Gen 29:26-27). Westermann
remarks that ÒJacob agrees; he has no option.Ó20

Westermann is correct, but he neither elaborates on the reasons why nor considers the
implications of the situation. Because Laban assures JacobÕs livelihood and safety, Jacob
lives in an asymmetric power relationship with him. He is, like all refugees, in a subordinate
position to the one who grants this status. The refugee is marginalized, disempowered, and
circumscribed in their ability to pursue their rights for fear of expulsion. All of this is
compressed into the short, dismissive comment with which Laban begins his explanation: ÒIt
is not done thus in our placeÓ (‫ ;לא יעשה כן במקומנו‬Gen 29:26a). Even though Laban has
welcomed Jacob like family and granted him asylum, he remains an outsider, not a part of the
host community.
19
Gerhard von Rad, Genesis: A Commentary, trans. John H. Marks (London: SCM Press, 1961), 292.
20
Claus Westermann, Genesis 12Ð36: A Commentary, trans. John K. Scullion S.J. (Minneapolis,
Minn.: Augsburg Publishing House, 1985), 467.

7
 !

Jacob has severely limited options in this situation. His stated desire to marry Rachel
is not irrelevant, but it is hard to avoid the conclusion that Jacob accepts LabanÕs one-sided
offer to serve another seven years for Rachel without resistance or negotiation because of the
asymmetric power relationship between them.

Jacob serves the additional seven years of service, sees the birth of twelve sons, and
then requests permission to leave (Gen 30:25). Even after almost twenty years (cf. 31:38),
Laban politely declines, suggesting instead that Jacob specify another Òwage.Ó This is not
generosity, writes Westermann, but Òa rejection of JacobÕs request.Ó21 Laban imitates a loving
father, but leverages his power to compel Jacob into yet another term of service that will
benefit him far more than Jacob.

Whereas commentators interpret the confusing set of statements between Laban and
Jacob in Gen 30:25-34 through their kinship,22 it is far more helpful to examine it through
migration studies. Jacob expresses the desire to live on his own, to manage his own affairs,
and to be treated as a fully capable agent (30:25-26, 30b). This desire is common to
involuntary migrants, who prefer to self-settle and to survive by their own agency.23 When
Laban refuses JacobÕs request (30:31a), the patriarch resorts to a tactic common among
subordinated groups across cultures: he employs LabanÕs paternalistic language against him,
utilizing it to construct the ruse whereby he will acquire the majority of LabanÕs livestock.

American sociologist and political scientist James C. Scott has demonstrated that
subaltern groups resist and deceive dominant groups in their daily practices.24 In Weapons of
the Weak and Domination and the Arts of Resistance, he establishes that dominated groups
assert their rights through disguised behaviors that push the established boundaries of
obedience for their benefit without breaking them so blatantly as to provoke punitive

21
Westermann, Genesis 12Ð36, 481.
22
As an example, consider Bill T. Arnold, Genesis (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009),
271-72.
23
See, for instance, Barbara E. Harrell-Bond, Imposing Aid: Emergency Assistance to Refugees
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), Liisa H. Malkki, Purity and Exile: Violence, Memory and National
Cosmology Among Hutu Refugees in Tanzania (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), and the synthesis
in Elizabeth Colson, ÒForced Migration and the Anthropological Response,Ó Journal of Refugee Studies 16
(2003), 7-10; for an anecdotal overview, cf. the recent lecture by Jeff Crisp at the Refugee Studies Centre in
Oxford: http://www.rsc.ox.ac.uk/news/in-search-of-solutions-refugees-are-doing-it-for-themselves-refugee-
voices-opening-plenary-jeff-crisp (accessed on 23 Feb 2017).
24
James C. Scott, Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance (New Haven, Conn.:
Yale University Press, 1985); idem., Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts (New Haven,
Conn.: Yale University Press, 1990), 110-25.

8
 !

measures from the authorities. Particularly relevant to the Laban-Jacob relationship, Scott
observes that when dominant powers portray themselves with Òpaternalist flourishes about
care, feeding, [and] housing,Ó25 subaltern groups happily employ this rhetoric in requests that
suit their needs. JacobÕs scheme against Laban depicted in Gen 30:25-43 fits this profile.

Daniel Smith-Christopher previously suggested the relevance of ScottÕs work for

interpreting the Jacob narrative, though he did not note the particular connection to JacobÕs
use of LabanÕs language. Smith-Christopher concludes that trickster narratives contribute to a
Òsubcultural ethicsÓ that emerges from the social circumstances of exilic subordination, extol
the subalternÕs ability to successfully navigate problematic circumstances,26 and exhibit a
willingness to use truth and falsehood to survive. LabanÕs disingenuous rhetoric furnishes
Jacob an opportunity to resist his authority in this way. Jacob shrewdly capitalizes upon it in
order to serve his ultimate aim to gain autonomy.

The importance of the asymmetric power structure between Laban and Jacob is
highlighted by what happens when it is undone. Compare the final conversation between
Jacob and Laban in Gen 31:25-54. Although Laban feigns his desire to celebrate Jacob, still
Jacob confesses that ÒI was afraid because I thought you would take your daughters from me
by forceÓ (31:31). Furthermore, when Laban cannot prove his accusation that Jacob has his
household gods, Jacob feels free to respond with anger (31:36). Now outside of LabanÕs
home and his protection, Jacob is forceful, unafraid to assert his rights, and even accusatory.
This is not the same man who accepted a seven-year term of service for Rachel without
negotiation because this is no longer a refugee dependent upon a protective power. Laban
recognizes as much: though he wants to claim all Jacob possesses as his own (31:43), even he
knows this is not possible, so he settles for a treaty that includes curses on Jacob should he
mistreat Leah or Rachel (31:50).

25
Scott, Domination, 18.
26
Daniel Smith-Christopher, Biblical Theology of Exile (Minneapolis, Minn.: Augsburg Fortress,
2002), 167; cf. Susan Niditch, A Prelude to Biblical Folklore: Underdogs and Tricksters (Urbana, Ill.:
University of Illinois Press, 2000).

9
 !

IV. JACOBÕS THE RETURN MIGRANT (GEN 32:2Ð33:20)27

The narrative immediately pivots towards Canaan, and JacobÕs demeanor changes as he
contemplates returning Òhome.Ó Jacob understandably dreads what he will find when he
meets Esau; he lives with a nightmare of return, not the more common utopian dream of
home called the myth of return.28 On the night prior to crossing the Jordan, Jacob struggles
with a divine being (Gen 32). The fight dislocates his hip, providing the etiology for the name
Israel, but also affording him the courage to face Esau. Thus, JacobÕs assessment that ÒI have
seen God face to face yet my life has continuedÓ (Gen 32:31) evokes the traumatized
involuntary migrant remarking that Òif I can deal with this, I can deal with anything.Ó JacobÕs
encounter at the Jabbok does not change his character, but underscores his ability to endure
even the most fearful circumstances.29

The positive impact on JacobÕs courage comes to the fore when he encounters Esau
again (33:1-11). Jacob remarks that Òto see your face is like seeing the face of God, and you
have received me favorablyÓ30 (33:10), creating an explicit echo of 32:31. No less surprising
than seeing the divine countenance and surviving, JacobÕs confession to Esau reveals equal
astonishment at confronting his aggrieved brother without open hostility. Lest the point
escape notice, this suggests that the experience of involuntary migration remains absolutely
central to the narrative even in the the two divine visions (Gen 28:10-20 and 32:23-33) that
provide the hieros logoi for Bethel, Mahanaim, and Penuel. At the same time as providing
etiologies, these texts offer assurance and hope to those facing the frightful trial of living
among potentially hostile others.

Jacob does not live his nightmare when he meets Esau, but that does not mean his
return ÒhomeÓ fails to be disorienting. Nothing resembles either JacobÕs memory or
expectation of Canaan. Jacob remains confused that Esau seeks reconciliation and not
revenge. Though one anticipates that Jacob will now behave differently toward Esau, the
unexpected situation leaves Jacob facing yet another new place with yet another unfamiliar

27
The UN defines a returnee as a refugee who has returned to his or her home country. See
http://www.unrefugees.org/site/c.lfIQKSOwFqG/b.4950731/k.A894/What_is_a_refugee.htm (accessed on 23
Feb 2017).
28
Jesse Newman, ÒNarrating Displacement: Oral Histories of Sri Lankan Women,Ó Refugee Studies
Centre Working Papers 15 (2003), 18-59.
29
cf. the discussion in Anderson, Jacob and the Divine Trickster, 160-69.
30
Following the JPS translation; cf. Westermann, Genesis 12Ð36, 522-23.

10
 !

host. Laban appeared benevolent to Jacob initially before taking advantage of him; will Esau
be any different?

Katherine Southwood examines Ezra-Nehemiah and not Genesis, but she establishes
that the Hebrew Bible depicts return migrants re-applying the strategies they used to survive
away from ÒhomeÓ to navigate the unfamiliar circumstances they find when returning there.31
Likewise, Jacob responds to Esau with the same strategies he employed for handling Laban.
First, Jacob offers a material payment that is exceedingly large (Gen 33:1-11; cf. 29:15-20),
indeed apparently unnecessary (33:9), to his unfamiliar host. Second, Jacob treats EsauÕs
generous offer to provide assistance for his journey to Seir with suspicion because he is wary
of having EsauÕs representatives with him. When Jacob refuses their help, the logic of his
refusal replicates his final dealing with Laban: Jacob recognizes the generosity offered
(compare 30:31 and 33:15), but refuses to accept.32 With Laban, this behavior provides Jacob
the opportunity to deceptively acquire wealth; with Esau, it provides Jacob protection by
creating separation between him and someone he does not trust. Jacob acts the same way in
circumstances that appear quite different to some, but are alarmingly similar to an
involuntary migrant.

Though a similar analysis of Gen 34Ð36 could show how the experience of
involuntary migration colors the interaction between JacobÕs family and the Shechemites, in
order to demonstrate the second potential contribution of this approach it is necessary to
explore how this interdisciplinary exegesis may be coordinated with further insights from the
study of migration to examine the diachronic growth of the Jacob material.

V. REASSESSING THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE JACOB NARRATIVE

The relatively broad agreement on the sources that comprise the canonical form of the Jacob
narrative makes it a good case study to expound how the study of migration may inform a
fresh assessment of GenesisÕ diachronic development.

Perhaps the single point of consensus in Pentateuchal source criticism now is the
31
Southwood, Ezra 9Ð10. For the social scientific research basis of her argument, see pp. 49-56.
32
In 30:31 Jacob says Òpay me nothing!Ó and in 33:15 ÒOh no, my lord is too kind to me!Ó

11
 !

division between P and non-P material. Owing to the relatively small amount of P material in
Gen 25Ð36, consensus is even more prevalent here. Erhard Blum enumerates an Òalmost
undisputedÓ list of 29 verses from P in the Jacob narrative: 25:19-20, 26b; 26:34-35; 27:46Ð
28:9; 31:17-18; 33:aα‫א‬.β; 35:(6?) 9-15, 22b-29.33 Scholars also generally agree that PÕs
material dates to the period after 586 B.C.E., most accepting that it binds the ancestral
tradition and the exodus tradition into a single narrative for the first time.34

The question of what material may pre-date P remains highly debated, though
scholars tend towards one of two groups. One group identifies major pieces of the non-P
Jacob narrative as pre-priestly compositions that originate separately from the Abraham (and
Isaac) traditions, emerging from the Northern Kingdom of Israel prior to the fall of Samaria
in 722 B.C.E. This group includes Erhard Blum, Albert de Pury,35 David Carr,36 Israel
Finkelstein and Thomas Ršmer,37 along with many others. Blum, perhaps the most influential
of this group, may serve as a representative of it here, though differences certainly exist
between him and the others in this group.

Blum argues for three stages of development prior to the P edition (his Kp). The
earliest edition (BlumÕs Kompositionsschicht) consists of a Jacob-Esau-Laban story, probably
composed during the Omride era (ca. 880-850 BCE). This version comprises the Vorstufe for
the second edition, BlumÕs so-called JakoberzŠhlung, which expands the text into a tri-partite
narrative with JacobÕs two encounters with Esau framing his time with Laban. Crucial to
BlumÕs dating of the JakoberzŠhlung, it now includes the hieros logos for Bethel (28:10-22),
along with etiologies for Mahanaim and Penuel (32:2-3, 23-33). Such material, Blum
contends, must date from a time when the relevant sanctuary operated, making 722 B.C.E. the

33
Blum, ÒJacob,Ó 190-91.
34
I bracket the Neo-Documentarian approach here. Insofar as these scholars offer a date for any source,
there are indications they prefer a pre-586 date for P. This matter deserves further attention, but that is not
possible here.
35
Albert de Pury, Promesse divine et lŽgende culturelle dans le cycle de Jacob: Gen•se 28 et les
traditions patriarcales (Paris: J. Gabalda, 1975); Albert de Pury, ÒLe cycle de Jacob comme lŽgende autonome
des origines dÕIsra‘l,Ó in Congress Volume: Leuven, 1989, ed. J. A. Emerton (Leiden: Brill, 1991).
36
David M. Carr, Reading the Fractures of Genesis: Historical and Literary Approaches (Louisville,
Ky.: Westminster John Knox, 1996).
37
Israel Finkelstein and Thomas Ršmer, ÒComments on the Historical Background of the Jacob
Narrative in Genesis,Ó Zeitschrift fŸr die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 126 (2014): 317-338; cf. Israel
Finkelstein and Thomas Ršmer, ÒComments on the Historical Background of the Abraham Narrative: Between
ÔRealiaÕ and ÔExegeticaÕ,Ó Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel 3 (2014): 3-23.

12
 !

terminus ante quem for this form of the narrative in his schema.38 Blum speculates the likely
provenance for the JakoberzŠhlung is Òunder the second Jeroboam, probably in the realm of
the sanctuary at Bethel.Ó39

This JakoberzŠhlung comes to the Southern Kingdom of Judah after the destruction
of Samaria, where, in due course at some point after 586 B.C.E., Judahite tradents combine it
with the existing Abraham traditions in order to form the ancestral history (VŠtergeschichte II
in BlumÕs earlier work on this material).40 Though BlumÕs scheme details further
development from this stage, both because that does not impact the current discussion and for
brevityÕs sake that shall not be traced here.

Another group of scholars maintains that the Jacob narrative originates after the
destruction of Jerusalem in 586 B.C.E. Recently and notably, Nadav NaÕaman has argued that
the pre-P Jacob material comes from Òabout the mid-6th century B.C.E.Ó in Judah.41 Despite
problems in NaÕamanÕs argument, he demonstrates a number of obstacles to a Northern, 8th-
century setting for the composition of the Jacob material as outlined by Blum. Six of
NaÕamanÕs arguments shall be reviewed here in order both to specify the problems he
identifies with BlumÕs view and also to provide a foundation for a fresh proposal regarding
the composition of the pre-P Jacob material.

Three points can be catalogued quickly. One, NaÕaman observes that the well-
integrated beginning (26:23, 33) and ending (35:19) of the Jacob story occur in Judah, not the
Northern Kingdom.42 Two, he notes that Ò[t]he prominence of Haran in the story fits the
reality of the late 8th-6th centuries, not that of the time of the Israelite monarchy.Ó43 Three,
NaÕaman follows Jacob Hoftijzer, concluding that the promise texts, which form an important
part of the story (12:1-3; 26:2-3ba; 31:3; 31:13; 46:3-4), Òfirst arose at a time in which the
IsraeliteÕs existence was seriously threatened, probably in the exilic period.Ó44 While

38
Blum, ÒJacob,Ó 208.
39
Blum, ÒJacob,Ó 210.
40
Erhard Blum, Die Komposition der VŠtergeschichte (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag,
1984); see Erhard Blum, Studien dur Komposition des Pentateuch (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1990), 214, n. 35, and the
discussion of the BlumÕs revision of his position in Rainer Albertz, Israel in Exile: The History and Literature
of the Sixth Century B.C.E., trans. David Green (Atlanta, Ga.: Society of Biblical Literature, 2003), 251-52.
41
Nadav NaÕaman, ÒThe Jacob Story and the Formation of Biblical Israel,Ó Tel Aviv: Journal of the
Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University 41 (2014): 95.
42
NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 99.
43
NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 99.
44
NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 99.

13
 !

NaÕaman correctly stresses a connection to a time when the community felt its control over
its land was at risk, he fails to recognize this mood may have prevailed in Israel, and indeed
Judah, anytime from about 730 B.C.E. onwards.

NaÕamanÕs fourth point constitutes his strongest objection to BlumÕs position: instead
of postulating that the Bethel hieros logos (Gen 28:10-22) must originate in a period when
Bethel contained an active temple, NaÕaman demonstrates the equal likelihood that the
material seeks to engender hope for a future restoration of the Bethel sanctuary. According to
him, Gen 28 presents a Òfoundation legend of the temple, which justifies its restoration and
expansion,Ó substantiating a Òhope that when Jacob/Israel returns home, Ôthis stone, which I
have set up as a pillar, shall be GodÕs house.ÕÓ45 NaÕamanÕs case hardly decides the issue;
nevertheless, it shows the impossibility of dating this etiology according to the operational
status of the Bethel sanctuary.

Fifth, NaÕaman argues that a positive description of a familial network connecting the
Northern Kingdom to Haran sits uneasily with the proposed dating of the ÒStory of JacobÓ
during the Israelite monarchy, a period of great hostility between the Israelites and the
Arameans.46 To this extent, NaÕaman remains convincing, though he carries on into
speculative claims he cannot substantiate.47 NaÕaman also observes that the Jacob narrative
contains precious little material seeking to justify the role of the Israelite monarchy, which
only strengthens his point. Whereas the material in Judges and Samuel, for which similar
claims exist, obviously deals with political and military leadership, and even the Abraham
material intimates similar themes (i.e., Gen 14), Jacob never adopts such a role. Jacob lives
subordinated to others. Whatever success Jacob does experience comes by trickery of the

45
NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 101; cf. Harald Wahl, Die JakobserzŠhlungen. Studien zu ihrer mŸndlichen
†berlieferung, Vorschriftung und HistorizitŠt (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1997), who suggests the story is
written once Bethel is already destroyed.
46
NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 105.
47
NaÕaman speculates that the ÒArameansÓ that live beyond the river (31:21-23) represent the
Ôdescendants of the Israelites that the Assyrians deported to north Mesopotamia who, over the course of time,
lost their former ethnic identity and became ÒArameans.ÓÕ NaÕaman attempts to support his speculation with an
inscription from Sargon II, the account of 2 Kgs 17:6, and (admittedly) sparse evidence for Yahwistic names in
this area during the 7th century, but the evidence will not support the claim (NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 105). He
presents this case as an extension of Mario Liverani, IsraelÕs History and the History of Israel, trans. Chiara Peri
and Philip Davies (London: Equinox, 2005), 264, though there is little to nothing in LiveraniÕs discussion to
suggest this conclusion.

14
 !

dominant power, never from obtaining that power himself. If the Jacob narrative intends to
justify Israelite royal prerogative, it is an especially obtuse attempt to do so.

Finally, NaÕaman discusses the varying locales of RachelÕs tomb: placed alternately in
the north (1 Sam 10:2; Jer 31:14) and in Ephrath/Bethlehem (35:16-20), he contends that the
link to Bethlehem Òstrongly supports my suggestion that JacobÕs story was written in Judah
rather than in Israel. Otherwise,Ó he continues, Òthe tomb would have been identified in north
Benjamin, near Bethel, where the inhabitants of the Northern Kingdom claimed its location to
be.Ó48 NaÕaman correctly stresses the connection to Benjamin, but he moves too quickly to
conclude this indicates a Judahite composition. Indeed, his assertion relies upon his own
idiosyncratic view that Benjamin comprised part of Judah throughout both the Bronze and
Iron ages.49 That view disregards strong evidence that Benjamin constituted part of Israel and
Judah at various times during the Iron Age, with Judahite control of the region demonstrable
from the late 8th-century until the fall of Jerusalem in 586 BCE.50 So, while NaÕaman
accurately emphasizes the Benjamite connection, he incorrectly correlates this to the 6th-
century rather than sometime after roughly 730 BCE.

To summarize, NaÕaman persuasively demonstrates the author of the Jacob narrative

Òwas familiar with places in south Judah and the neighboring southern regions and with
Judahite oral traditions, and... was familiar with the North Israelite urban centers and cultural
memories.Ó51 One may appropriate this contribution without accepting his specious
conclusion that the Jacob material is, then, Òa Judahite exilic compositionÓ which Òmight be
read as a paradigm of a forced migration from the land, the hard life in the Diaspora and the
return home.Ó52 In sum, NaÕaman effectively unmoors the Jacob narrative from a reigning
Israelite monarchy and a functioning Bethel sanctuary while cogently connecting it to a

48
NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 108.
49
Nadav NaÕaman, ÒSaul, Benjamin and the Emergence of Ýbiblical IsraelÜ,Ó Zeitschrift fŸr die
alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 121(2009): 211-24, 335-49.
50
Israel Finkelstein, The Forgotten Kingdom: The Archaeology and History of Northern Israel
(Atlanta, Ga.: Society of Biblical Literature, 2013), 44-47, who argues in direct rebuttal to NaÕamanÕs position
as detailed in NaÕaman, ÒSaul, BenjaminÓ.
51
NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 118.
52
NaÕaman, ÒJacob Story,Ó 109; cf. Bert Dicou, Edom, IsraelÕs Brother and Antagonist: The Role of
Edom in Biblical Prophecy and Story (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994). Indeed, NaÕaman seems to
undermine his own view in this last quote, which posits a community that has experienced diasporic living and,
minimally, a desire to return home. Without objecting at all to the classifying those who remained in Judah after
586 B.C.E. as involuntary migrants, because they remain in Judah they are by definition not part of a diaspora
that yearns for a return home.

15
 !

community with knowledge of both Israel and Judah, living during a period of prominence
for Haran (the late 8th-6th centuries), and familiar with the experience of involuntary
migration.

The preceding exegesisÑshowing the centrality that involuntary migration plays in

the Jacob narrativeÑmagnifies the importance of this final feature. Indeed, when one places
the efforts at royal authorization and religious etiology in proper perspective alongside the
dominant theme of involuntary migration, the vital contribution the social scientific study of
involuntary migration can make to identifying the provenance of Gen 25Ð36 comes to the
fore. The key question emerges in this form: did a community of involuntary migrants,
familiar with prominent locations in Israel and Judah, positively disposed to the traditions
about the patriarch Jacob, exist during the period of HaranÕs prominence between the late 8th
and 6th century BCE?

Much remains unknown about the aftermath of the fall of the Northern Kingdom to
Assyria around 720 B.C.E. Scholars largely agree, nevertheless, that the extant material and
the textual evidence indicates a substantial number of Israelites (involuntarily) migrated into
Judah as a result of these events. ÒResettlement of Israelite groups from the area of southern
Samaria, including Bethel, in Jerusalem and Judah,Ó comments Israel Finkelstein about this
period, transformed Judah into Òa mixed Judahite-Israelite kingdom under Assyrian
domination.Ó53 Scholars primarily concern themselves with the process by which this
generates a so-called Òpan-IsraeliteÓ identity secured by combining Northern and Southern
textual traditions, but this analysis overlooks the possibility for compositional activity during
this period prior to such amalgamation.54

Blum originally located the initial combination of the Abraham and Jacob traditions
into a patriarchal history (his VŠtergeschichte I) during this period,55 though he subsequently
revised his view, opting to argue this occurred after 586 BCE.56 BlumÕs move created
something of a Òdark periodÓ between roughly 720 and 586 BCE for him, and it would seem,
for many others working on the Pentateuch as well. Recently, Finkelstein and Thomas Ršmer

53
Finkelstein, Forgotten Kingdom, 155.
54
Finkelstein, Forgotten Kingdom, 155.
55
Blum, Die Komposition, 273-97, especially pp. 296-97.
56
Blum, Studien zur Komposition, 214, n. 35; cf. Matthias Kšckert, VŠtergott und VŠterverhei§ungen:
eine auseinandersetzung mit Albrecht Alt und seinem Erben (Gšttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1988), 252-
54.

16
 !

have revived the role of this period in the development of the Jacob narrative, though they
consider it only as a time that might allow for the combination of the Abraham and Jacob
traditions, not as an opportunity for independent development of the Jacob material occurring
prior to any integration with the Abraham traditions.

Nevertheless, the social setting for the Israelite involuntary migrants in Judah between
720 B.C.E. and approximately 630 B.C.E. provides precisely the atmosphere in which one may
account for the strengths in both BlumÕs and NaÕamanÕs views. The Israelites who
involuntarily migrated to Judah not only knew Samaria and Bethel, as Finkelstein observes,
but Shechem and perhaps Penuel, the main locations in the Jacob narrative. The oscillating
affiliation of Benjamin with Israel and Judah makes it likely some of these Israelite
involuntary migrants settled there, offering a possible logic for locating RachelÕs burial there
too. The small size of Judah and relative proximity of Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and Beersheba
(about 40 miles/65 km from the former two), even by ancient standards, accounts for
knowledge about the key Southern sites in the Jacob narrative.

It is conjecture to speak about the social status and education of the Israelite
involuntary migrants, but the fact that any Northern traditions survive at all strongly implies
the presence of some literate elites, such as priests and scribes. It is no struggle to imagine
some elites being sent ahead Òto safety,Ó as it were, from Samaria, Bethel, and other key
locations in Israel as the Assyrian invasion commenced and defeat became more and more
likely, even if this situation lies beyond what is demonstrable. Whatever the case, members of
the Israelite involuntary migrant community would have known key components of the pre-
existing Jacob traditionsÑfor instance, some etiological material along with some stories
about migrationÑthat enabled them to perpetuate the stories after arriving in Judah, perhaps
orally, perhaps in writing.57 This community of Israelite involuntary migrants, even in such
broad outline, provides a fitting social setting for all the features NaÕaman highlights about
the Jacob narrativeÕs likely author.

What aim would an Israelite involuntary migrant seek to achieve by including

existing traditions about Jacob the patriarch and key religious sites in the North into a new
edition of the story after 720 B.C.E.? Recall the major moves in the plot of the Jacob narrative
57
On the evidence for an Òoral-written literary matrixÓ lying behind the development of the texts in the
Hebrew Bible, see David M. Carr, Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005).

17
 !

from Gen 25Ð33: conflict between Esau and Jacob produces hostility between them, so that
Esau pronounces his homicidal intentions; Rebekah uses her access and influence with Isaac
to arrange, with something between misdirection and dishonesty, JacobÕs departure; Jacob
travels to Laban, who he does not know but to whom he is related, and obtains refuge; though
providing safety for Jacob, Laban accrues great power over Jacob, forcing Jacob to accept
unfair treatment in order to retain his protection; after twenty years, Jacob cleverly escapes
LabanÕs control, departs from this Òsafe-haven,Ó and returns to face his enemy; although the
enemyÕs hostility appears to have dissipated, uncertainty prompts Jacob to employ trickery to
protect himself and his family once again. In sum, the Jacob narrative describes how to
successfully navigate the frightful challenges arising from life as an involuntary migrant
caught between a hostile enemy (e.g., Assyria) and a host community to which one is related,
but does not have your well-being at the top of their priorities (e.g., Judah).

Characterized thus, the Jacob story offers encouragement to and sustains hope for the
Israelite involuntary migrants in Judah after 720 B.C.E. To illustrate this function, compare
this objective with the aims of stories told by contemporary involuntary migrants. In her
influential work with Hutu refugees in Tanzania, Liisa Malkki notes the unabashedly didactic
nature of their historical narratives. Lasting from hours to several days, the stories Òwere
crafted with considerable oratorical eloquenceÓ and Òclearly had a beginning, a development,
a climax, and a closure.Ó58 The stories facilitated discussions on the lessons contained in the
material. The Òheavily moral storiesÓ constructed an understanding of the world Òand the
pragmatics of everyday lifeÓ as an involuntary migrant.59

By depicting IsraelÕs eponymous ancestor Jacob as an asylum seeker, refugee, and

return migrant who successfully navigates the gauntlet between hostile enemy Esau and
coercive host-protector Laban, the Jacob narrative accomplishes the didactic, pragmatic
function of endorsing a mode of life suited to the situation of the Israelite involuntary
migrants who find themselves in Judah after 720 B.C.E.

58
Malkki, Purity and Exile, 53.
59
Malkki, Purity and Exile, 53-55.

18
 !

VI. CONCLUSION

The Jacob narrative, as demonstrated, foregrounds the experience of involuntary migration. It

follows sensibly, then, that the social scientific study of that same phenomenon must illumine
the meaning of the text. Furthermore, the same social scientific research offers important
inputs into the effort to reconstruct the diachronic development of the text by substantially
clarifying the social setting(s) from which it likely arose.

This essay has employed findings from the study of involuntary migration to offer a
fresh exegesis of the Jacob narrative, thereby justifying the need for scholars to recognize its
central theme is involuntary migration. Additionally, this piece outlines a new argument for
placing important diachronic developments in the Jacob narrativeÕs history among Israelite
involuntary migrants living in Judah during the period between 720 and 630 B.C.E.

The first stage of the argumentÑa synchronic exegesisÑremains valid regardless of

whether one accepts the second stage, namely, the diachronic reconstruction. This point
deserves explicit statement, lest any disagreement on the more contentious issues of source
criticism and provenance obscure the important contribution that occurs at this interpretative
level.

That said, even scholars who disagree with the compositional history advocated on
the basis of this exegesis will need to account for itÑespecially the finding that involuntary
migration comprises a dominant theme of the Jacob narrative. The case for its role here
should make it a common feature in future reconstructions of the diachronic development of
the ancestral narrative. Indeed, one might define the central contribution of this article as its
indication that the social scientific study of migration, especially involuntary migration, can
and should assume an important role in analysis of the ancestral narrative.

19